


et semper miser hic ēsurit

by jonphaedrus (noahfronsenburg)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Banter, Body Hair, Body Worship, Crying, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Hair-pulling, Large Cock, Let Alphinaud Say Fuck, M/M, Mild Medical Kink, Mild Painplay, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Rimming, Secret Identity Fail, Self-Fisting, Sensation Play, Size Kink, Verbal Humiliation, Video Game Mechanics, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 05:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18515053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahfronsenburg/pseuds/jonphaedrus
Summary: “You,” Gaius said after a moment, and there was a low rumble of thunder in the bass of his voice now, gravel and grit catching in his throat, “are much too pretty to have a mouth like that.”





	et semper miser hic ēsurit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arianne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianne/gifts).



> "et semper miser hic ēsurit" comes from [martial 2.51](http://www.thelatinlibrary.com/martial/mart2.shtml) and translates to "and always that poor [hole] of yours is empty"
> 
> It Is About What You Think It Is About.

Two weeks in Coerthas was officially _too much time in Coerthas_ , and it was beginning to get to him. Alphinaud had not intended to spend this amount of time trekking all about the Highlands, but here he was. At the end of this particularly long day, he had left Cid and his fellow Scion behind at Whitebrim and trekked back to Camp Dragonhead solely for the purpose of a truly warm bed.

Whitebrim was an outpost, Dragonhead functionally a small town, and Alphinaud for one was tired of sleeping on a pallet and eating reheated soup. Even if it meant being windblown practically to shreds on the way back. Still, when he stumbled into the rectory, shaking all over and his nose running, Medguistl turned to see him and almost dropped her ladle in the soup, immediately gasping over his state. As soon as he’d assuaged her that he was not accompanied by two other hungry, cold, weary travelers and he just wanted use of his own warm bed for the night, Alphinaud accepted a plate of hot dodo, straight off of where it had been roasting on the spit, as well as some stew and a hearty whole-grain roll of bread.

Alphinaud went to sit at the tables in the common area, cleared out because of how late past dinner it was, most of the rooms already shuttered, and stopped when he saw a man there already.

He looked up at the sound of footsteps, and Alphinaud stared, gaze drawn to the third eye clearly visible on the stranger’s forehead, clear as day. The stranger raised a single eyebrow at him and lifted the mug at his hand in greeting. Freed from his momentary surprise, Alphinaud came over and sat down across from the man.

“I daresay I was not expecting to see a Garlean here, of all places,” Alphinaud began, once he had torn his bread into chunks. The man across from him laughed at the half-question. “My apologies for being so forward; I know it is hardly appropriate, but most purebloods find themselves loathe to walk Eorzea without some sort of disguise.” 

“Hiding is always more suspicious than just admitting you’re suspicious to begin with.” Alphinaud took a moment to process, and then shrugged, accepting the sentiment as true enough. “You speak as if from experience.”

“There are precious few pureblooded Garleans who walk Eorzea’s shores outside of the legions. I’ve crossed paths with a few, but most hide who they are.”

“I am who and what I am, for better or for worse. Better I be true, than false, to it.” He took a long drink from his mug. “Besides, it lets me meet people like yourself.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, and Alphinaud, busily shoving stew-soaked bread into his mouth, watched the cloth of his shirt stretch over his chest. Hungrily. The stranger was handsome, tall enough to give most full-grown Roegaedyn a run for their money, and equally broad. Despite his age—grey starting to steal into the short-cropped black hair that fell loose across his forehead, a cowlick at the right temple making it stand up—he was robust. His dark skin made his eyes, a color so pale Alphinaud could hardly put a name to it, stand out even more, glowing in the low lamplight. 

He was dressed to travel—better dressed for Coerthas, in fact, than Alphinaud was—in a worn brown coat, a black muffler looped around his throat. It drew Alphinaud’s eye inexorably to the line of his throat, the unshaved stubble tracing the tendons there. The sleeves of the shirt beneath his coat clung to the broad muscle of his forearms, and his hands, in black leather gloves worn thin with age, were almost twice the size of Alphinaud’s own.

When the other man cocked a single brow at him, Alphinaud flushed and looked back down at his food. 

“What brings you hence?” He asked, when he had mastered his voice again, picking at his food. “Did you serve in the legions?”

“For more than a score of years. I’ve walked these lands since the VIIth fell, trying to understand them.” Alphinaud looked back up and found the man had sunk back in his chair, arms still crossed, face pensive. “I’ve seen most of the three continents, and there is nowhere like Eorzea. Her lands are...” he seemed frustrated, for a moment, by his inability to find the proper words. “There is nowhere else like it.”

“I never could have understood it myself until I came from Sharlayan,” Alphinaud agreed. “In truth, I remain unconvinced anyone really understands Eorzea. There is history here, too much and not enough at turns. It has driven greater men than I to their knees.” 

The stranger laughed. “ _Absolutum dominium_. Absolute power, as Garlean terms it. Eorzea gets under a man’s skin and stays there, never moving. It drives some to madness.” He shook his head, a wry smile upon his lips. “Myself included, I suppose.”

“Has it done the same to the Legatii, do you think?”

“van Darnus was mad before he ever got to Eorzea. Dalamud just drove him the rest of the way over the edge. As for van Baelsar—" The man shrugged. "Who can say.”

Alphinaud's curiosity was piqued, if possible, more than it already had been before. “You speak almost as if from experience. Did you serve with either of them?” 

“I was in the Xith at the same time Baelsar was.” The man half-smiled. “But no, I cannot say that I ever met the Legatus, although I hardly need have such a claim to a relationship to guess what drives him. The obsession that is Eorzea has hounded him for fifteen years. Like as not, it will see him to an early grave.” The words were clearly meant to be flippant, but they were spoken with a profound sadness to them, a _regret_ that colored them pale and wan. “Gaius van Baelsar would have been better off had he never set foot on these shores, but hindsight and some spit in a bucket will still kill you in a desert.”

It was sobering, to hear from a man who had served in war alongside men like Gaius van Baelsar, that there was no easy way free from the precipice they stood upon. The silence between them grew thin, strained.

Alphinaud cleared his throat, set down his fork, and stood. “May I get you another drink?”

“I’ll not say no.”

 

 

When Alphinaud returned with two flagons of spiced cider, the other man leaned over the table to look at him more closely, taking the mug Alphinaud passed him. “What makes you so curious about Eorzea's occupiers?” 

“Know thy enemy,” Alphinaud replied, after he took a drink. “The XIVth stands with Eorzea balanced on a promontory, and the drop to the sea is one that will take us both if either steps awry.” He shook his head, sighed. “I am not a man given to delusions; there is no resolution to this conflict not bought in blood.” The man made a noise, as if considering, but did not disagree. “I simply wish to understand The Black Wolf. Thrice, Gaius has thrown himself at Eorzea’s battlements, and thrice she has repulsed him. There is a certain kind of man who finds it a personal challenge to commit political suicide three times.”

 “A hero?”

“A fool.”

The man stared at him, momentarily stunned. Alphinaud raised his eyebrows. “Had it not occurred to you that he is too far from help? The XIVth is cut off and surrounded on all sides; for Garlemald's purposes they may as well be on the moon. The majority of their forces are in Ala Mhigo, and those here hold the upper hand by dint of Eorzea being more committed to infighting than battling an external threat—and, fortunately for the XIVth, the city-states seem loathe to cooperate any time soon. Gaius stands upon a precipice as precarious as does Eorzea and he has but one option. There is neither surrender nor retreat for the XIVth, mark my words. 

“Either Gaius will take Eorzea, or Eorzea will take him, and none in the capital will mourn overmuch for his passing.”  
  
The man stared at him, his eyes sharp and bright as flint struck to tinder. Then, slowly, he smiled, and threw his head back, laughing, one hand pressed to his chest, fingers against his sternum.

“Forgive me,” he said after a moment, wheezing between the words. “But you are a puzzle to me, strange and stranger again by turns. A man could be forgiven for finding so green a youth speaking as ruthlessly as were you a Garlean Legatus yourself.”

“It is only the fear of failure that keeps us from galvanizing Eorzea,” Alphinaud sighed, rubbed his temple. It had been foremost in his thoughts in recent days, a problem with no easy solution. “So many have died already, and the losses of the Calamity loom still too-large in the consciousnesses of the realm. No offensive will be staged unless Eorzea believes that either they are guaranteed to win, or they have no other option. The question is simply who will bite first, and to my surprise, the Wolf at our heels seems loathe to snap.”

“I thank you for your candor,” the stranger said, at last, laughter still writ large in his voice. “Even in Eorzea, there are few who will speak so frankly of the weaknesses of Garlemald, especially to an audience who has unsure allegiances.” Alphinaud looked back up and found the man smiling at him.

It softened his sharp face, made the crows feet at the sides of his eyes crinkle, made Alphinaud stare at his lips. He had remarkably full lips. 

“Eorzea should count herself lucky indeed she has such a mind thinking of her. I only but pray there are those who will heed your advice. You could prove a match for the Black Wolf yet, young hunter.”

“I pray as well,” Alphinaud returned, when his throat cleared of embarrassment. The Scions were still shattered and scattered, but he believed they would reunite. He _had_ to. They would reach the Vigil, get the _Enterprise_ , and then—

“Even should I meet and speak to no-one else in all my years in Eorzea, I believe I can count this wandering fruitful for having spoken to you tonight, but I do not believe I caught your name.” The stranger held out his hand across the table. “Gaius.”

Alphinaud stared at his hand, glanced to his face, and burst out laughing. “Are you _serious_?”

The man— _Gaius—_ grinned at Alphinaud, and it was a dashed handsome smirk. “Garlemald is not an inventive land. My father was a Gaius and I have two cousins of the same name. It remains the most common praenomen, and no less so now that the Black Wolf stands atop her legions.” He was still holding his hand out, waiting Alphinaud's introduction. It was unorthodox, certainly, as most in Eorzea introduced themselves with a bow, but—

Alphinaud finally took it. The man’s hand dwarfed his, the palm as big again as his whole fist. Gaius had a steady, firm grip, and even through the leather of his gloves Alphinaud could feel the heat of his body. It was a good heat, and Alphinaud found himself wanting to know what it would feel like burning him. “Alphinaud,” he returned, as they shook. And held on, a long moment beyond when they should have both let go. “It is a pleasure.”

“Might you know of somewhere I could stay for the evening, Master Alphinaud? I fear the blizzard outside is not stopping tonight, and all the beds here are taken.”

Alphinaud had a half-moment of hesitation. He glanced toward the front hall—but there was nobody listening in. He looked back to Gaius, and paused. He wet his lips again, bit the lower one full in his mouth, and watched as the other man stared, unblinking. At his mouth.

“Yes,” Alphinaud said after a moment, heat pooling low in the pit of his stomach. “I believe I know of something that might be amenable to your needs.”

 

  

They were halfway up the narrow staircase leading to the third floor of the building when Gaius, in a tone that was benign and too carefully chosen to come off as casually as he wished, said, “The guest rooms have no doors. Does yours?”

Alphinaud turned to look back at him. Fully three tall steps ahead of him, their eyes were level. Alphinaud offered a smile. “I am a guest of the house,” he said lightly, “so one should _hope_ it does.”

“And does it have a second bed?”

“Certainly not.”

Gaius’ eyes shone in the warm, flickering light of the sconces. “You’re very forward, Master Alphinaud.”

With no one nearby, or certainly at least none who were awake to hear him, Alphinaud felt _no_ shame in speaking his mind. “I very much intend,” he said, voice a low whisper and carrying with it his intentions, “for our night to begin properly with my hole stuffed full of your fingers, and to only improve from there.”

This close, even in the low light Alphinaud could see the other man’s pupils dilate, hear the quickening of his breath. “You,” Gaius said after a moment, and there was a low rumble of thunder in the bass of his voice now, gravel and grit catching in his throat, “are much too pretty to have a mouth like that.”

Alphinaud tried—failed—to hide his wanton grin. “On the contrary, Sir, wait until you hear what I intend to do with your cock.” Gaius made a quiet, low noise, and Alphinaud, quite satisfied with himself, continued, “I’m torn between letting you fuck my throat until I can’t speak, and riding you until I can’t sit.”

“ _Seven hells_ ,” Gaius hissed, and Alphinaud reached for him before he could make the first move, leaned his weight onto the other man’s broad shoulders, used the height of the stair to take the lead, dragging on Gaius’ lapels. Gaius bit his lower lip _immediately_ , right over where Alphinaud had been worrying it with his own teeth, and reflexively Alphinaud gasped, opening his mouth into their kiss. “Gods, that should be illegal,” Gaius added, murmuring it between kisses, and Alphinaud dragged him closer by the lapels of his coat, Gaius following his lead.

When the distance grew to be too much, Alphinaud leaned further forward, stepped down one step, and then yelped into the other man’s mouth when Gaius wrapped his forearm around his waist—his wrist almost as wide as Alphinaud’s calf—and flattened one broad palm over the entirety of his arse.

One hand.

 _One hand_ could span across it like that. Alphinaud shuddered.

Gaius lifted him up off of the step like Alphinaud weighed nothing at all, supported him _entirely_ with that single hand, and Alphinaud wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck, sighing into his open mouth when Gaius pressed the tip of one finger against his hole through the cloth of his breeches. “Both your holes came in hungry tonight,” Gaius growled.

Alphinaud felt a surge of arousal so sudden that he felt his breath catch. “Ravenous,” he managed on the inhale, breathy and sounding as desperate already as if he’d been teased for _hours_ and given no release.

“Then I had best show my thanks for your hospitality and fill the other.”

“Yes,” Alphinaud agreed, gasping. “I dare say you can, Sir.”

Gaius stiffened against him, and what he said next made Alphinaud’s cock, already hard in his smallclothes, _hurt_. “If you call me that again, we’re not going to make it to your room.”

“Fucking hells.” Alphinaud rapidly disentangled himself, shifting until he could wiggle down out of Gaius’ grip, fumbling with the buttons at his aetherometer until Gaius batted his hands away, muttering, “Want to unwrap you.”

If Alphinaud been but perhaps two years younger, he could have come in his pants from that alone. So, face _burning_ , he practically sprinted the last half-flight of stairs to the door to his rooms. The key shook so hard in his hands it took until the third try to get the door open, and that it did not slam shut loud enough to wake the whole building was providence alone.

The moment they were inside, Gaius picked Alphinaud up again. This time, he was prepared for it, ready for it, not yelping but instead gasping a whispered _yes_. This was what he’d needed tonight—he’d needed some big, handsome man to pick him up like he was the finest of porcelain, to moan into his mouth when Alphinaud tangled one hand in his scarf, knotted it up, and _pulled_.

By the time they made it to the bed, Alphinaud had both his hands buried in Gaius’ hair, biting at his open mouth, and if he hadn’t wrapped himself around the bigger man he would have simply been dropped to the mattress like so much dead weight, like a _thing_ Gaius had collected. Instead, he had to be tipped down onto the edge of the bed, set down and had his interlocked ankles and searching fingers pried away. Alphinaud maintained the kiss as long as he could, Gaius’ swollen lower lip catching on his teeth when he made to pull away.

Gaius unspooled his own scarf and shook loose his coat afterward, tossing both on the floor without looking, and his gloves were stripped and joined them so fast Alphinaud nearly missed it. In the lull, Alphinaud bent to undo his boots.

Gaius stopped his hand. “No,” he said, his voice firm and hoarse. Alphinaud glanced up, met eyes blown wide and wanting. “No, _puer delicatus_ , I am going to take you apart.”

“Oh,” Alphinaud said dumbly once he figured out how to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth, at which point Gaius had already batted his hands away from the buckles at his ankles, knelt, and pulled both his boots free. He then undid the buttons on his jacket, opening the front and then dragging it down Alphinaud’s arms, undressing him as if he were a doll.

“No wonder you’re so cold,” Gaius went on, talking to himself more than to Alphinaud, pressing open his thighs so he could slide between them and press a hot kiss to the base of Alphinaud’s ribcage where his shirt bared it. The rasp of his stubble on the windblown skin made Alphinaud whine, and Gaius did it again, kissing between each rib, dragging his teeth over them. “Hardly dressed for the weather. You must be freezing.”

“I need someone to warm me up,” Alphinaud managed to keep his voice from trembling as Gaius gave the same treatment to the bared portion of his collarbone, hardly having to stretch to make it, even kneeling on the floor. He was so _tall_. “Think you’re up to the challenge?”

Gaius pulled him down by the tail-end of his braid. “By the time I’m done with you,” he said into Alphinaud’s mouth, his hands pressed to the insides of Alpinaud’s thighs, “you’ll make me get up and open the window.”

Alphinaud laughed. “I very much doubt that,” he returned, biting Gaius’ lip again as the other man dragged his hot palms up his legs. Almost experimentally, Gaius wrapped his fingers around Alphinaud’s thighs—they didn’t reach all the way, but the fact it was a near thing was, in and of itself, as good as a touch to his cock might have been. Especially since the only light in Alphinaud’s room was from the open curtains letting in checkered moonlight through the snow, the contrast of Gaius’ dark skin against the white of Alphinaud’s breeches—

He fumbled to grab _Adelphoi_ and cast a light toward the candle, nearly bungling the spell when Gaius unceremoniously yanked him to the very edge of the mattress and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the juncture of his thighs over his cock. Alphinaud made a strangled noise, and so Gaius did it _again_ , this time with teeth.

The third time came with Gaius’ hands pinning Alphinaud’s hips, his fingers wrapped all the way around to the back of his hipbones. He could have broken Alphinaud in half if he’d wanted, but instead he undid the buttons of Alphinaud’s fly with his teeth and tongue. He brought down his massive hands to coax down his trousers and his smallclothes, and then, hardly sparing a glance at Alphinaud’s red, aching cock, pulled free his shirt as well.

Gaius made a low noise in the back of his throat, wrapping his hands now around Alphinaud’s waist—the spread of his fingers long enough they interlaced, if only just, when he dug them in. Alphinaud’s gasp gave way to a whine as Gaius bit a mark into the side of his neck covered by his collar. Gaius went downward then, stubble scratching over the fine trail of hair in the centre of Alphinaud’s sternum. Then he did the same over Alphinaud’s tit, and Alphinaud was _certain_ he’d not meant to beg, quite certain, but he did anyway, a tiny _please_ on no breath at all.

Gaius repeated the motion, the rough, deliberate drag across sensitive skin, then bit at his nipple gently. Alphinaud cried out, and Gaius in response bit again and harder. He worried Alphinaud’s nipple to a throbbing cherry-red, and then once satisfied with his work he moved to the other nipple, leaving Alphinaud buzzing and his head stuffed full of cotton before Gaius ever even made it further down.

When he finally did, it was still to pass Alphinaud’s weeping cock, going instead for his thighs. “Beautiful,” he murmured, kissing the inside of one and then the other, near the arcs of his hipbones. Gaius followed them upward, his stubble leaving Alphinaud’s skin tingling, and sucked bitemarks into the peak of each until Alphinaud twisted under him, trying in vain to get away.

Gaius’ breath, when he laughed, tickled the base of Alphinaud’s stomach. “Too much?”

Alphinaud moaned, shaking his head sharply _no_. The sharp-sweet pleasure of the bites ached in his hips and in his balls, and he felt his cheeks burning when Gaius laughed at him again. “Your hair,” he murmured soft, glancing up beneath his dark lashes. “White against your skin.” He kissed the fold of Alphinaud’s knee, pressed a line of kisses back up the tender skin where Alphinaud’s inseam usually lay. “Ilsabard’s snowy glaciers hardly hold a candle to such a fine contrast.”

Alphinaud tried to say something and settled instead for a wounded noise when Gaius did the same to his other leg. “Soft as down,” he murmured, lifting Alphinaud’s left foot and pulling his sock off like he was unwrapping a Starlight Celebration gift. He kissed the hollow of Alphinaud’s ankle, and then the centre of the sole of his foot, leaving Alphinaud to try to jerk away from the breath there. Gaius did the same to his other foot, and then looked up at him, panting, sweat beading at his hairline, his thumbs—wider than the bones themselves were at the angle—brushing over Alphinaud’s hipbones.

“Gorgeous.” His voice was worn ragged. “I daresay I’ve never seen a man so lovely.” He glanced down, and Alphinaud followed that too-bright gaze to where his cock was leaking against the base of his stomach. “And lovelier still,” he added, breathing over the head of Alphinaud’s cock, which jumped, before Gaius lifted Alphinaud’s knees over his shoulders and blew a hot breath over the tight furl of his hole.

“Do you want,” Alphinaud began, trying hard to think of where he had put the lube and his train of thought fuzzy with arousal, but Gaius only laughed. So close, it was just a hot rumble that rattled in his chest, vibrated up Alphinaud’s legs. Gaius pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the rim of Alphinaud’s hole, and he shocked out of Alphinaud a high, wavering whine with the press of the tip of his tongue inside him.

Gaius made a pleased noise. “Loose,” he muttered, and Alphinaud found himself laughing breathlessly.

“It’s been some moons since I had anybody to bed, but—” Gaius leaned his cheek against the hand Alphinaud had braced on his shoulder, which was so broad compared to Alphinaud’s narrow legs that he could fit his entire thigh and his hand there and have room to spare.

“You’ve been stuffing that sweet hole of yours?”

Alphinaud shut his eyes, toes curling as he swallowed because _gods_ , yes. “Every night,” Alphinaud wished his voice hadn’t cracked on that, but the thought of—gods. He keened when Gaius smiled and he _felt it_ with his arse. “Four fingers every night— _fuck_ —” Gaius licked over his rim again. “Because I haven’t anything proper with me for it.”

“And what’s the most times you’ve come in a night?” Gaius asked, in-between fucking Alphinaud’s hole with his tongue, leaving him hardly able to _think_ , let alone speak, between the tongue in him and the teeth playing at his rim. “Three?”

“Two,” Alphinaud gasped. The first night he’d been in Eorzea proper he’d ridden Thancred’s cock, slender and shorter than he liked, and when Alphinaud hadn’t come like that Thancred had slid three fingers into him and worked Alphinaud’s prostate until he’d cried, leaking his issue all over Thancred’s stomach, and then Thancred had kept going. Alphinaud had spilled that second time shaking so hard he had been worried for two days after he’d caught a chill.

Gaius grunted into him. “Disgraceful,” he snapped. Alphinaud moaned as he slid one thick finger in along with his tongue, wet enough it went with ease. One finger, even with how big Gaius’ hands were, was still plenty smaller than four of Alphinaud’s, and he could get three in dry. “I’d best set a new record. You’re only young once; five seems fairly reasonable.”

“Oh,” Alphinaud gasped, because as Gaius said it, he reached upward, found Alphinaud’s prostate, and _pushed_. The combined thought—coming five times—and the finger in him, Gaius’ head buried between his thighs and tongue opening him up, was more than enough, and he came dry without even meaning to from that prostate stimulation alone, shuddering as his knees clamped around Gaius’ head, whining and rocking into him, squeezing down on that powerful hand, already rearranging his insides to fit.

Gaius laughed, the sound rough and dark with need. “Four more,” he said blithely as Alphinaud shuddered, oversensitive and _desperate_.

 

 

Alphinaud watched in a daze as Gaius undid his belt and his fly, then dragged his shirt up over his head. It revealed the powerful lines of his pectorals and neck, the impressive muscle of his biceps, the dark hair that covered his chest, and his small, black nipples, pebbled with the cold. Dozens of scars covered his upper body, small and large both, and Alphinaud couldn’t wait to trace them with his tongue.

Lost in his imaginings, he suddenly felt Gaius’ fingers back between his thighs, slick with lube. Alphinaud whined, lifting his legs to hook his knees over the other man’s broad shoulders, reveling in the heat of Gaius’ skin against him, the hair on his shoulders rough against the sensitive underside of Alphinaud’s knees.

He didn’t bother to quiet himself, especially when Gaius pushed three fingers into him with little preamble. He moaned for the frisson of heat as the sensitive nerves of his rim stretched, for the fullness, for how open he was on Gaius’ thick fingers, and he pulled at Gaius’ short hair as Gaius’ fingers inside him curled. The heat was still growing, tingling on his stretched rim and inside him, and _burned._

Alphinaud’s breath caught in his throat. “What—what are you using,” Alphinaud tugged on Gaius’ hair until the man looked up at him, pupils blown wide. Without meaning to, Alphinaud added, “Oh, you look so good on your knees.”

Gaius shut his eyes, turned his head into Alphinaud’s hold, and gave a low, ragged moan. “Ice resistance potion.”

Alphinaud tugged on his hair again, rougher. “ _Rude_ ,” he whispered, and felt more than saw the other man shudder beneath him. He could feel what the potion was doing to his rim—meant to heat up the body, to increase bloodflow and soothe and soften chapped skin, he’d used it before on bared portions of his hands and drank them, felt them heat him from within his belly.

Used as slick, though, Alphinaud could feel his rim swelling, sensitive and tingling, and _inside_ —

He moaned, dragging Gaius’ face into the base of his stomach when the other man pulled his fingers out and slicked his hand again.

Four fingers against Alphinaud’s rim, even relaxed and warm, was—he was _tight_ , because Gaius’ hands were double the size of his own, and the potion left him so, so sensitive. He rocked down, trying to force it, and Gaius laughed against his skin. “Stop being impatient.”

“ _No._ ”

“I’ll distract you.”

Alphinaud wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t Gaius fumbling to slick the fingers of his clean hand. He stayed still, not sure where it was going, until he shifted, fingers sliding deeper, so he could bite at Alphinaud’s left nipple, smearing the potion across his right. “Oh,” Alphinaud said, clutching at the back of the other man’s neck, whining as Gaius began to massage the potion into his skin, sucking another bite mark onto the hollow of his sternum.

When his nipple started to ache, a red peak, slick and wet, Gaius kept going, working the potion into Alphinaud’s skin out around his areola, biting marks into his tits, moving his hand further and further out until Alphinaud was digging his heels into the base of the other man’s shoulder blades, every breath coming out of him a whine.

“Gods,” he wheezed, _moaning_ when Gaius pinched the slick skin of his chest, not even over his nipple. He did it again, and Alphinaud had never really considered before just how sensitive his tits _were_ , not until now, when it felt like the entire right side of his chest was as needy as his weeping cock was. Gaius was still leisurely fucking him open with four fingers, down to the middle knuckle now, curling and uncurling within him, and by the time he’d done the same thing to Alphinaud’s left breast, his fingers were in to the bottom knuckle and Alphinaud was rocking into the thrusts of his hand, rolling with them and the pace of his breathing.

Gaius kissed the underside of his chin, dragging blunt nails over his nipple. “Men would go to war for your tits. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man with pinker nipples,” he continued, pinching and then _twisting_ Alphinaud’s aching, burning, too-sensitive right nipple, tugging on it, grinding it between his fingertips until Alphinaud was keening. “And all swollen like this—gods.”

“I,” Alphinaud started, as Gaius kept torturing just his right nipple, pinching the too-sensitive point where his areola met his skin, and then doing it again, _harder_ —his hole as so full, he felt like he was _dripping_ Gaius had slicked him so much, and every time he tried to clench down he could feel how broken-open he was, the hair on the back of Gaius’ hand scraping against hypersensitive, overheating nerves. “I need you to fuck me,” he managed, after a moment. “Gaius, I need you to fuck me. Please, gods, please—” Gaius _finally_ kissed the tip of his cock, and Alphinaud felt his heart skip a beat, groaned. “ _Now_ you’re polite, Sir?”

Rather than reply, Gaius swallowed him to the root, and Alphinaud had a single, split-second realization that their size difference was such that Alphinaud’s cock didn’t even reach down the other man’s throat, barely nudging against the back of his mouth, and then that realization sunk in, that Gaius was so large next to him that he could swallow Alphinaud to the root without needing to even worry if he might gag, and he _sobbed_ , doubled over, and came, clawing at the other man’s broad shoulders, spilling into his mouth as Gaius finally popped the full width of his knuckles past Alphinaud’s rim, the top half of his hand inside him, his thumb pressed to his taint—

Alphinaud gave up on any sort of even semblance of propriety, and _wailed_.

 

 

Shivering with oversensitivity, Alphinaud lay sprawled on his bed, squeezing his own aching tits and watching through lidded eyes as Gaius first went and washed out his mouth and then took the rest of his clothes off. Standing beside the bed, lit by the glow of the candle, Alphinaud followed the visible bulge of the other man’s erection trapped in his trousers as he cursed under his breath trying to get his boots off, finally having to sit on the edge of the bed to manage to wiggle them free.

“Hurt your knees, old man?” Alphinaud murmured, when Gaius lifted his hips to get his trousers off, and got a pinch to the inside of his thigh for it. “My apologies, did I hit a sore spot?”

“You’re lucky I don’t gag you,” Gaius growled, grinding the base of his palm over himself before taking off his smallclothes, and Alphinaud _moaned_ at the sight of his cock.

“Oh,” he whispered under his breath, pinching his sore nipples, biting his lower lip again, “ _Oh,_ I knew your cock would be big.” Gaius stroked himself as Alphinaud watched, foreskin rolling back and forth over the wide, dripping slit, and his cock was thick enough that his fingers didn’t reach all the way round, even with how big his hands were. And it was so long. It was _so long_ , almost longer than Alphinaud’s forearm, and he whined again when he imagined what it would feel like inside him, unconsciously spread his thighs and rolled his hips, clenched down.

Gaius was staring at his hole, panting, and Alphinaud clenched down again, moaning for Gaius as he planted his heels on the mattress and lifted his hips, presenting himself to the other man. He stopped playing with his tits, instead draging his hands down his chest, barely brushing his knuckles along the underside of his half-hard cock. He moaned again—not for show as the first had been, but a desperate noise he couldn’t hold in—as he slid four fingers into his hole, and, when it was not enough, feeling himself still loose around his fingers, Alphinaud raised his hips further to reach under himself. He pressed the entire top of his hand into himself until his knuckles, thumb included, were grinding into the slick edge of his rim. Alphinaud whimpered, and _pushed_ , forcing his fist past the rim. He yelped as it popped inside, his rim slack and loose, his hole swallowing up his whole hand.

“Fuck,” Gaius abruptly grabbed the base of his cock _hard_ , and Alphinaud watched it twitch. He was gasping as Alphinaud pulled his fist back out from inside himself, stroked his own cock with the left over slick and whining as the heat almost immediately began to set in.

“Did you almost come?” Alphinaud asked, keeping his voice light, as Gaius leaned over him, dragged him over by his ankle.

“Yes,” Gaius admitted, unashamed. “Gods, but your hand looks good in you.” Alphinaud shuddered as he rolled into the other man’s lap, feeling loose and empty and _starving_. He wanted, desperately, to be filled. “What was it you said you wanted to do with my cock again?”

“I changed my mind,” Alphinaud curled his arms around the other man’s neck, pressed their chests together and shuddered, toes curling in pleasure at the friction of Gaius’ chesthair against his too-sensitive skin, kissed him until Gaius was gasping into his mouth, rutting his cockhead against the base of Alphinaud’s stomach where he was half sat up on his knees to correct for their height difference. “I could ride your cock, or you could put my knees over my head and fuck me until I cry.”

Gaius’ hands, tight on his hips, tightened until his grip was nearly painful. Alphinaud ground back against him, leaned further forward until the other man’s cockhead was beneath his hole, shifting his hips and rolling back and down until it was kissing his loose, throbbing rim.

“I can already imagine it,” Alphinaud continued, not pushing down, just gently easing onto the width of Gaius’ cockhead. “You’re a patient man. You took such a long time to fingerfuck me all open for your cock, and now you’re letting me _use_ you.” Gaius jerked as Alphinaud pushed down again, most of the head of his erection slipping past his rim before Alphinaud slid back up, his thighs trembling. “What do you want, Gaius?”

At the sound of his name, breathed into his lips, the other man wheezed, barely a whisper, “ _Placeo, pullus_.”

Alphinaud sank the rest of the way down, body shuddering with a ragged, broken moan as he finally, _finally_ , got that cock in him. The head of Gaius’ cock slid into him so easy, _so_ easy, so easy he was trembling and whining, clutching the other man’s shoulders for something to ground himself to. “You’re so _big_ ,” Alphinaud whispered, voice cracking. He rocked his hips, stifling the cry in his throat by pressing it into the other man’s mouth when the head of Gaius’ cock dug into his prostate as Gaius clawed at his hips. “Hells, I can’t remember—when I was so full last—”

“Finally sated?” Gaius asked, as Alphinaud relaxed around him, sinking further down. “Your hole not so needy?”

“No,” Alphinaud hissed into his lips, relaxing the rest of the way so that Gaius sank into him as deep as he could go without effort, “Ravenous still. You want to fuck me senseless, Sir? You’d best mark your claim first.” And Gaius, hips jerking thrust _up_ , and Alphinaud cried out into his mouth, Gaius groaning, dragging at him. “I’ll still walk tomorrow, Sir, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Rather than reply, Gaius pressed one hand to the small of his back, held Alphinaud onto his cock, and promptly rolled him back onto the mattress, not pulling out. Alphinaud yelped into his mouth, his own erection  _throbbing_ at how easily Gaius manhandled him, and then cried out again as Gaius slid his hands up the underside of his thighs, pressed his knees back, back, kissed him and slid _deeper_ at last, almost to the base, and Alphinaud could feel himself completely full of the other man’s cock and there was _still more_ , _still more_ and Gaius was pulling out, impaling him in a single, sharp thrust.

“ _Yes!_ ” Alphinaud sobbed, clawing at the sheets, tears burning at his lids as the other man found a good pace, taking his pleasure from Alphinaud’s body. “Yes, yes—I want you deeper, I want all of you in me—”

“I can already fucking see my cock in you,” Alphinaud’s glanced down, and he bit his lip so hard it bled when he saw, just barely, a visible bump in his stomach when Gaius bottomed out. When he thrust in next, he bent Alphinaud completely in half, kissed him. “I can’t get any deeper at this angle.”

Frustrated, Alphinaud pressed his head back into the pillow, gasped for a moment as Gaius stilled. “Godsdamnit,” he muttered, gasping, chest heaving, his cock hard and dripping. “How do you want to?” He asked, sitting back up slightly, Gaius pressed almost entirely on top of him, cock so, _so_ deep in him and not hilted yet. “I can do _nothing_ to fix my _unfortunate_ vertical challenges.” Gaius made a thoughtful noise, pressed a quick kiss to his lips, and pulled back, both of them gasping when his cock slipped free.

“Roll over,” Gaius told him, and Alphinaud scrambled to obey, pulling his pillow down to lean on. He spread his knees, glancing over his shoulder as Gaius ran his hands up his torso, from his hips to his shoulders. Then, with seemingly as little effort as breathing, Gaius lifted Alphinaud’s hips entirely off of the bed.

He clenched, _hard_. Gods, but Gaius was strong, and like this, the contrast in their bodies was even more obvious. Alphinaud’s hips were so narrow compared to Gaius’ were, those big, thick-fingered hands curled around and enveloping most of his arse in their spread.

“You’d best brace yourself, Master Alphinaud,” Gaius murmured, rolling the tip of his cock across his swollen rim, the both of them soaking, dragging the underside of his erection there after so that the head of his cock pressed to the small of Alphinaud’s back, reminding him _just how deep it could go_. “Else, you’ll wake the whole building.”

“You are _welcome_ to try,” Alphinaud replied, his voice rattling on a whine when Gaius pushed back into him, gentle. “In fact, you may consider it a challenge. Conquer me properly, should you want me screaming your name.”

Gaius glanced up from where he had been watching his cock sink into Alphinaud’s rim, and gave him a hungry look. “I’ve not backed down from a challenge yet,” he said, his voice low and ragged, thick in his throat. “I’ll leave your throat as ruined as your arse when I’m done with you, _pullus meī._ ”

And then Gaius dragged back on his hips, and in one deep thrust, sheathed himself to the hilt. Alphinaud had but a moment to register the pressure within him, white-hot pleasure and agony both as the tip of the other man’s cock hit the end of his rectum before gravity and force won out and his cockhead popped through.

Alphinaud came with a shout, his orgasm so hard and abrupt it was painful, biting the pillow to try and muffle it, vision whiting out, spurting all over the sheets. Gaius pulled back, just enough that he could _feel_ it, an impossible stoppered-full pressure dragging outward. The weight of the length of Gaius’ cock against his prostate was inexorable and awful, _perfect_. “Gods, _please_ , deeper,” Alphinaud sobbed, crying into the side of his forearm. “Please, please, I need you deeper—” and Gaius obliged, hissing between his teeth as he thrust forward again, harder.

It was the sweetest agony Alphinaud had ever felt, his toes curling where he’d instinctively wrapped his thighs back around Gaius’ waist. And there was _still more of his cock_ , Alphinaud so full he felt like he was about to be fucked out the throat. Gaius gave a broken moan when he finally came to a halt, bottoming out, the base of his stomach pressed to Alphinaud’s taint, his heavy balls crashing hard against Alphinaud’s own.

And then—

And then he pulled out, as rough as he’d come in, the width of his glans popping back out from deeper within Alphinaud, and he shut his eyes, pressed his face into his pillow, and _wailed_.

“Seven hells, you’re so tight,” Gaius sounded as wrecked as Alphinaud felt, his voice ragged and pleading. “You’re so tight when you come.” He grunted with effort, his pace relentless from root to tip, bottoming out every time, Alphinaud nearly  _screaming_ as he did, his abdomen trembling with the force of his muscles clamping down. Gaius leaned further over him, weight driving his thrusts.

Gaius was speaking, but Alphinaud couldn’t hear him over the cannon-fire pounding of his heart in his ears, the sound of his own shouting bottled up in his throat and barely muffled into the pillow. He shrieked every time Gaius fucked all the way into him, crying out and _sobbing_ when the head of the other man’s cock pushed halfway up his spine. He wasn’t sure if he had had one orgasm, or one that was just—going, non-stop, drawn out over and over, the friction on his sweet spot so constant and contiguous that it never let him stop shaking, stop seeing stars and brightness behind his eyelids.

All Alphinaud could do was hang on, fingers digging white-knuckled into the pillow and the sheets, and _cry_ , hot, ugly tears burning his cheeks as Gaius took his pleasure, just as he had begged him to. His throat hurt from sobbing, his head spun from lack of air as he gasped, desperate, tasting the tears on his upper lip as Gaius leaned further over him again, one hand holding his hips up and the other pressed to the hollow between his shoulder blades.

“So fine-boned,” Gaius whispered, his deep voice wrecked as he leaned over Alphinaud, hilted entirely in him, breath hot over the shell of his ear. Gaius bit down none-too-gently at the sensitive tip of his ear, dragged his teeth off, made Alphinaud shudder, whimper a ragged whine. “ _Delicatus columbe candidissumus meus,_ my sweet little white bird.” He dragged his fingers over Alphinaud’s shoulder blades. “Beautiful,” another kiss, to the back of Alphinaud’s ear, and then the side of his neck, so gentle in contrast with the constant fullness inside of him, Gaius sheathed as deep as he could go and still wishing to be _deeper._ Hot, open-mouthed kisses came with the heady scrape of stubble, and now that Alphinaud could _breathe_ all he could feel was the ache of it all, stuffed with Gaius’ cock, his prostate a hot point of _want_ inside him, his tits burning against the sheets, the cloth scraping over them again and again. They were so raw, he was—he—

“It’s so much,” Alphinaud sobbed, face pressed into the tear-soaked side of his pillow. His voice sounded like someone else’s, his throat raw and ragged. He had never _needed_ quite like this, been so overstimulated and _still_ not _done_ , the tight ache of his drawn-up balls and his cock, hard and twitching, almost secondary to the fact that his entire arse felt like it was just one single hot nerve, fucked until he could not tell the difference between not enough and too much. Gaius pressed another gentle kiss to the back of his neck, to the side of his jaw.

Alphinaud had hung so close for so long as Gaius took his pleasure that now, with nothing, it was almost _worse_ , clenching reflexively as Gaius just stayed buried in him to the hilt, a groan rumbling low in his chest every time Alphinaud squeezed around him. Gaius chuckled, nosing into Alphinaud’s hair, most of the way out of its braid. He kissed the soft spot behind his ear, licked there, made Alphinaud squeak. He groaned when Alphinaud tensed up, gasping, and tightened as much as he could around the other man—weak, exhausted, it wasn’t much.

Gaius pushed him harder into the mattress, Alphinaud’s body folding in half around the hand on his back, his hips tilted up, Gaius as deep as he could go. “I’m going to come in you,” he said, his voice shaking as his hips twitched forward, seemingly of their own accord. “All the way in, so deep—fill your arse with it. Breed you with it.”

“Please, Sir, I want your come in me,” Alphinaud whispered, his heart pounding—and Gaius made this broken, shattered noise low in the back of his throat, his face creased as he shoved it into the back of his neck.

At the same moment Gaius started to say, “ _I’m_ ,” his cock twitched, buried deep inside of Alphinaud, and Gaius came, hand on Alphinaud’s hips shaking as he jerked forward, groaning aloud into the skin of his shoulder. Alphinaud grabbed at the other man's forearm, trying to pull him closer, his back aching from the stretch. He cried out as the angle shifted and his tits ground into the bed. Gaius fumbled, reached for Alphinaud’s cock between his thighs, and Alphinaud’s vision whited out, his heart skipping a beat, when Gaius took him in hand, the feeling of the other man’s palm swallowing his length completely without even filling his fist properly, the hard cock inside him, the heat of his tits—

He’d already been so close. He spilled once more.

 

 

When Gaius finally pulled out, Alphinaud groaned in pain, fell boneless to the mattress, his legs shaking when his knees finally found purchase on the bed. “Fucking hells,” he whispered as Gaius sat back on his haunches, hot palms soothing the aching outsides of his hips, the muscles burning, and he tried to clench down, found almost nothing _happened_. “Gods,” Alphinaud sobbed, barely able to move, his muscles too weak to do more than stretch when the other man pulled him backwards to sprawl on his lap, not needing to be coaxed into a kiss, one hand pressed to Gaius’ broad chest over the rapid beat of his heart.

Alphinaud wasn’t sure what he had expected as they curled around one another, but it wasn’t for Gaius to help him sit upright, to lean against the powerful expanse of his chest, coax his thighs apart. “Gaius,” Alphinaud moaned, his head rolled back on the other man’s shoulder, limp with exhaustion, “ _Must_ you _._ ”

“I said five times,” he felt Gaius’ voice in his chest when he spoke, “And I counted four.” Alphinaud’s come was striping the base of his stomach, his cock soft and sore. He shifted Alphinaud atop his lap, pressed his thighs up until they were flat against his chest, his knees once more by his ears. “Besides,” he added, “I want to check you aren’t hurt.”

“Hah,” Alphinaud managed, voice shuddering as he looked down at himself with lidded eyes, Gaius’ dark hands spreading his cheeks. “With your fingers, I’m sure.”

“Look at the vanity,” Gaius said, instead of replying, and Alphinaud glanced up toward the window and the vanity mirror.

They were sideways on the bed, one of Gaius’ knees drawn up for Alphinaud to lean against, and at first all Alphinaud could see was the difference their bodies: Gaius’ thigh nearly as wide as his waist, the other man’s soft cock still as wide as Alphinaud’s hand even when flaccid against the base of his thigh, the contrast in their skintones.

And then he took in a quick, sharp breath, high in his throat, as Gaius pulled his hole wide. In the reflection of the mirror it was a yawning darkness between his thighs, not closing back up when Gaius let it go, still open wide enough that Alphinaud could see inside himself, the air cold against how hot he was within. Gaius spread it again, with two hands now, chin hooked over Alphinaud’s chin to watch his face in the mirror as Gaius pulled him as wide as he’d go, Alphinaud staring, transfixed, shaking at the sight of it, biting his lower lip and moaning as Gaius rubbed his fingertips over his rim. He tried, experimentally, to clench down despite the forced stretch, and they both groaned at how little changed, how very loose he was now.

Gaius grabbed for the bottle of the potion he’d been using before, corked and scattered to the foot of the mattress, and kissed the side of Alphinaud’s neck as he pulled the stopper free, slicked his hand. “Blizzard seems to be getting worse,” he murmured, Alphinaud watching in awe as four fingers, wider than his ankle, slid inside him without his rim even visibly stretching.

Beyond the glass of the window, there was nothing but snow. Alphinaud groaned. “Move to the side,” he said, as commanding as possible—difficult, when he’d screamed himself hoarse. “The window’s open.”

“Nobody could see in past that,” Gaius chuckled. He kept lazily fucking four fingers in and out of him, curling them as deep as they could go, his fingertips brushing against the deepest part of Alphinaud’s rectum, making him shudder. He was right, of course—the snow coming down was so total that all Alphinaud himself could see was maybe two feet of flakes and then the intense grey of whiteout. “Why?” he asked, laughing again. “Because if there wasn’t, anyone atop the walls could see you?”

Alphinaud felt his eyes get very wide, and his limp cock twitched against his thigh. “Oh,” he whispered, clawing at the side of Gaius’ bicep, his nipples tingling with the thought.

“No mistaking that,” Gaius continued, turning his hand back and forth, pulling his fingers free, checking for blood. He made a pleased noise when he found none and slicked his hand further, down over his knuckles. This time, he pushed back until the top of his knuckles were at Alphinaud’s rim, pushed until they popped inside him, his thumb along the underside of Alphinaud’s crack. “Look at yourself. If anybody saw you now, they’d know your arse is never going to close again.” Alphinaud _wheezed_ , whining. “So small and fragile, Master Alphinaud, it's nearly unbelievable that you've such a loose hole.” As he spoke, Gaius was popping his knuckles in and out of him, and then he pulled his hand out; kissed the whorl of his ear.

Alphinaud was shaking in arousal, his cock half-hard, and he could not find where to look. Out the window, at the blizzard and Camp Dragonhead, where anybody could have looked in the room from across the walls and seen Alphinaud’s arse, so open he couldn’t close, seen the darkness, how he gaped. Seen what he had done to himself, and how it was still not enough. They could have seen most of Gaius’ hand inside him. Or if he wanted to look down, at Gaius’ hand vanishing into him, the width of his knuckles almost entirely within Alphinaud.

Or if he wanted to look at the mirror, where Gaius was staring, unblinking, at Alphinaud’s expression. At Alphinaud’s own face, his lips swollen and raw, his cheeks red and puffy with tears, his eyes wet, sweat matting his hair to his forehead, mouth open as he cried out every time Gaius pushed deeper into him, breathy whimpers punched out of the heart of him. Gaius looked desperate and devastating, his high cheekbones flushed, his full lips swollen from their kisses, as needy as Alphinaud was.

In the candlelight Alphinaud's tits were pink all over, his nipples hard and red, tiny drops of blood coming up from the deepest indents Gaius’ nails and teeth had made in him. They would burn, Alphinaud knew, for _days_ , every shift of fabric a cause to whimper.

Gaius’ thumb pressed against his rim, and he twisted his hand back and forth, inexorably easing deeper and deeper into Alphinaud. His rim couldn’t stretch any more, too full, too wide, but the pressure of that knuckle was—especially when Gaius pushed his other knuckles in, ground them up against Alphinaud’s prostate.

In their reflection, Alphinaud could see himself crying.

“Look how deep I came in you,” Gaius murmured, his gaze distracted, focusing down on Alphinaud’s fucked-out gape again. “There’s nothing dripping out.”

Alphinaud tensed, clenched, and made a shattered noise, Gaius pulling his rim as far as it would go, his knuckles crushing Alphinaud’s much-abused prostate, the angle, folded in half, putting too much pressure on Alphinaud’s full bladder. The thought—Gaius so deep in him his come was _stuck_ , not able to drip back out yet, laying a claim Alphinaud couldn’t easily rinse away—was too much.

Alphinaud cried out, sobbing, and pressed his face into the side of Gaius’ neck as he came a final time. His release was just a few drops, his spend all _spent_ already, and clenched hard enough he did half the work of getting Gaius’ hand back out. To his humiliation, Alphinaud pissed himself.

The hot trickle made Gaius _moan_. He reached his hand down to the base of Alphinaud’s abdomen, just above his twitching cock, and pushed down, making Alphinaud empty himself completely as he writhed in Gaius’ arms, hiccoughing as he cried, unable to close his eyes and unable to look away as the last of his composure shattered. Gaius kissed the tears from his cheeks as he pressed a single thumb inside of Alphinaud, crushing his prostate, the other hand still atop his belly, and Gaius squeezed him until he was finished, soaked in sweat and come and his own piss, shivering and moaning mindless, thoughtless, begging praise, humiliation become euphoria.

 

 

Afterward (“Shift up, let me help—” “Fuck you.”) Alphinaud resolutely refused to even move—entirely reasonable, he thought, all considered. Gaius removed himself from the bed, left Alphinaud's piss drying on his stomach and both their thighs, and went to the washbasin to quietly wipe himself down. Alphinaud shut his eyes and made an unhappy, pained noise when Gaius came back with a wet cloth to clean him up, gentle as he could with Alphinaud’s throbbing tits and his limp, aching cock.

“Your arse too, pretty boy.”

“ _Ugh_ _._ ”

“Yes, lift your legs.” Alphinaud groaned, unhappy, and shifted his thighs so Gaius could clean between them. The cool water helped, but even the cotton of the cloth was far, _far_ too rough for his sensitive nerves. When Gaius was done Alphinaud dropped his legs and let his toes dangle against the floor. “Where’s the toilet?”

“Left down the hall. Last door on the right.” Alphinaud heard Gaius shuffling around, tug his trousers back on. He tilted his head up when he felt the other man lean over him, one hand braced on the bed, and blindly kissed him. “Put a shirt on,” he said into the kiss, “and go get me some water.”

“As you command, Master Alphinaud.”

When Gaius returned, Alphinaud had dragged himself up to the dresser and found a clean pair of smallclothes and a tunic to sleep in, had shut the curtains and picked his things up from where they had ended up scattered everywhere on the floor, put _Adelphoi_ away on the vanity, and gotten back in bed, the blankets half-fixed. They had luckily not made too much of a mess atop the sheets, and most of it was already half-dry, sweat and semen sticky against the flannel.

Gaius locked the door behind him, leaned a double-length gunblade against the table beside the door, and then came over, shrugging out of his shirt and kicking down his trousers as he came back to Alphinaud’s bed. “Your water,” he said, solemnly, passing over a wooden cup, which Alphinaud drank all of immediately, dehydrated from crying and his throat raw from screaming.

Gaius pinched out the candle, pressed Alphinaud into the sheets, pulled him close with one arm around his waist.

“You look cold, Master Alphinaud,” Gaius said, whispered it into his lips as Alphinaud dragged all four blankets over them both, burrowed into the other man’s chest. He was huge, and very, very warm. “Should I warm you up?”

He pinched Alphinaud’s arse when he said it.

“Please!” He laughed. “Kindly, Sir, pray do _not.”_


End file.
